“Do you leave this, too, Beatrix?” says her mother, taking the miniature out, and with a cruelty she did not very often show; but there are some moments when the tenderest women are cruel, and some triumphs which angels can’t forego.*

* This remark shows how unjustly and contemptuously even the best of men will sometimes judge of our sex.  Lady Castlewood had no intention of triumphing over her daughter; but from a sense of duty alone pointed out her deplorable wrong.—­H.  E.

Having delivered this stab, Lady Castlewood was frightened at the effect of her blow.  It went to poor Beatrix’s heart:  she flushed up and passed a handkerchief across her eyes, and kissed the miniature, and put it into her bosom:—­“I had forgot it,” says she; “my injury made me forget my grief:  my mother has recalled both to me.  Farewell, mother; I think I never can forgive you; something hath broke between us that no tears nor years can repair.  I always said I was alone; you never loved me, never—­and were jealous of me from the time I sat on my father’s knee.  Let me go away, the sooner the better:  I can bear to be with you no more.”

“Go, child,” says her mother, still very stern; “go and bend your proud knees and ask forgiveness; go, pray in solitude for humility and repentance.  ’Tis not your reproaches that make me unhappy, ’tis your hard heart, my poor Beatrix; may God soften it, and teach you one day to feel for your mother.”

If my mistress was cruel, at least she never could be got to own as much.  Her haughtiness quite overtopped Beatrix’s; and, if the girl had a proud spirit, I very much fear it came to her by inheritance.

CHAPTER XI.

Our guest quits us as not being hospitable enough.

Beatrix’s departure took place within an hour, her maid going with her in the post-chaise, and a man armed on the coach-box to prevent any danger of the road.  Esmond and Frank thought of escorting the carriage, but she indignantly refused their company, and another man was sent to follow the coach, and not to leave it till it had passed over Hounslow Heath on the next day.  And these two forming the whole of Lady Castlewood’s male domestics, Mr. Esmond’s faithful John Lockwood came to wait on his mistress during their absence, though he would have preferred to escort Mrs. Lucy, his sweetheart, on her journey into the country.

We had a gloomy and silent meal; it seemed as if a darkness was over the house, since the bright face of Beatrix had been withdrawn from it.  In the afternoon came a message from the favorite to relieve us somewhat from this despondency.  “The Queen hath been much shaken,” the note said; “she is better now, and all things will go well.  Let my lord Castlewood be ready against we send for him.”

At night there came a second billet:  “There hath been a great battle in Council; Lord Treasurer hath broke his staff, and hath fallen never to rise again; no successor is appointed.  Lord B——­receives a great Whig company to-night at Golden Square.  If he is trimming, others are true; the Queen hath no more fits, but is a-bed now, and more quiet.  Be ready against morning, when I still hope all will be well.”